


full throttle

by bloominsummer



Series: 80 bpm, 180 mph [1]
Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rivals to Lovers to Rivals, Sexual Inexperience, find out what that means, one scene with a knife that's it, pretty unusual for me huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24904237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer
Summary: The situation is rather simple: Wonwoo is Jeonghan’s right-hand man and Mingyu is the guy trying to sway his allegiance by all means. What makes it complicated is that one of Mingyu’s methods involves showering Wonwoo with unadulterated affection.And Wonwoo’s starting to think that perhaps loyalty isn’t all the world makes it out to be.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu
Series: 80 bpm, 180 mph [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833139
Comments: 43
Kudos: 481





	full throttle

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this 14k monster came out of me in a week or so but wouldn't have been possible without user jinniespring & wonrunpit on twt so shoutout to them!
> 
> if you're here this is your daily reminder to visit [this site](https://currentinfo.carrd.co/) and stream [left & right](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HdZdxocqzq4)
> 
> in this [thread](https://twitter.com/bioominsummer/status/1276521318997872644) here is the visualisation for mingyu's referenced outfits throughout this fic because the styling for this comeback is just craaaazy
> 
> p.s. to avoid confusion: Archangel's the name of jeonghan's car. buckle up!

In hindsight, Wonwoo should have known that Jisoo calling him at ass o’clock in the morning means nothing but trouble. Still, in Jeonghan’s absence, he’s the one responsible for all the delinquents under their wings. That responsibility includes bailing Jisoo out of jail if he so happens to get arrested for doing something stupid like drawing dicks _and_ balls on the walls of the biggest private high school in the city. 

Who in their right minds would do such things, one would ask? The answer is no one. But Hong Jisoo hasn’t been in his right mind since the moment he could formulate a coherent thought, so. 

The sort of trivial issue that’s within his expectation is far from what Wonwoo soon realises he would have to deal with. Apparently, Soonyoung has taken Jeonghan’s prized car out of the garage without permission, gone on a street race with one of the guys from the Wolves, and lost miserably.

Now they’re about to take Archangel away from Soonyoung and Wonwoo is his last resort, considering all other methods of negotiation have failed. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to get rid of the headache forming inside his skull. 

“What the hell, Jisoo? Why didn’t you stop him?”

Jisoo has the audacity to giggle over the line.  _“Soonyoung needs to know that he’s a shit driver regardless of the car he drives. After tonight, he won’t pull this kind of stunt anymore. Lesson learned.”_

Wonwoo wants to strangle him with a cord. If he’s going to fuck Soonyoung, the least he can do is keep his agenda within the four walls of their bedroom. This little act of support is fucking Soonyoung _over_ more than anything else. 

_“Besides, it’s the perfect timing,”_ adds Jisoo, his tone entirely too chipper for someone who’s six-feet deep in shit trouble. _“Bossman is out of town.”_

“Yes, I’m fully aware that Jeonghan is out of town,” Wonwoo snaps, but he gets up from bed anyway. “Do you want to find out what happens when he comes home and Archangel is not sitting pretty in the garage where he left her? The way she should be?”

He can practically sense Jisoo rolling his eyes through the line. _“Just get over here and bail us out of this, would you?”_

“Jihoon!” Wonwoo purposefully screams into the receiver before he immediately hangs up. “I need you to take me somewhere.” 

Jihoon grumbles the entire way to the location Jisoo sent them despite having been awake when Wonwoo calls for him. All Wonwoo can do is close his eyes and listen to the faint music playing from the radio, try not to strangle Jihoon in Jisoo’s stead because if anyone’s at their biggest inconvenience right now, it wouldn’t be him. It wouldn’t be Jisoo either, or Soonyoung.

It would be Wonwoo. 

And the reason for that is the tall man he sees leaning against the all-too-familiar black Chevy Camaro when they arrive at their destination. His long legs seem to stretch miles and miles in front of him, practically a racing track Wonwoo wants to ride across. 

He’s dressed in an outfit that is far too revealing for the cold night air. His jacket, for one, is nowhere to be found. The leather shoulder piece slung over the broadness of his figure is akin to part of an armour, except it barely covers an inch of his left arm. Modesty is not one of his better traits; Wonwoo doubts it’s even a word that exists in his dictionary.

The man smiles when he spots Wonwoo exiting Jihoon’s car and walking towards him. 

His charm is rather boyish, sharp incisors peeking from behind his rosy mouth that’s currently chewing bubblegum rather obnoxiously. He’s not exactly Wonwoo’s type, but after years of being, well, _acquaintances_ might be the correct term for it, he’s grown fond of his charms. 

Entranced, even. During the good nights, the moonlight would illuminate the man’s cheekbones at the right angle, accentuating his other features in the same complementary way, and it would take everything Wonwoo has in him to tear his eyes away from his face.

“Mingyu,” says Wonwoo, giving the leader of the other gang a small nod. He takes his cap off as a gesture of respect, so this way Mingyu won’t have trouble finding his eyes beneath his visor. “Good evening.”

Mingyu blows a bubble, then pops it. “Good morning you to too.”

“What seems to be the problem here?”

Soonyoung is leaning against Archangel, a protective palm placed on her hood. Wonwoo assesses both him and the car, sighing a small breathe of relief when he finds no visible scratches on either one of them. It’s not that he thinks Mingyu would go as far as to lift a finger against Soonyoung for refusing to admit defeat. It’s that he knows Mingyu is more than capable returning a punch should Soonyoung have the impulse to lash out first. 

“I don’t know. You can ask your guys,” Mingyu shrugs his shoulders. “The way I see it, we raced, I won, I should take the car home. But little lamb here wouldn’t let me.”

“Call me a lamb again and I’ll tear out your throat with my teeth,” spats Soonyoung, stomping his feet on the hard ground.

The two men share a dark look. There’s a crackle buzzing in the air.

“Excuse him,” Wonwoo cuts in before the tension can get any worse. “His ego is taking a big hit tonight. You know how it is when you lose.”

“I can’t say it’s a familiar feeling.”

Oh, so he’s playing the role of a Grade A asshole tonight. Plays it extremely well, at that. 

“Look, Mingyu. You’re a reasonable guy. We both know you can’t take Jeonghan’s car without stirring things up.”  


“Surely, Jeonghan would understand the importance of following through with a deal.” 

Mingyu blows and pops yet another bubble before he continues. He’s probably doing it to test Wonwoo’s patience, but unfortunately for him, Wonwoo is rather well-trained in the art of resistance. 

“Soonyoung shook my hand before we got behind our respective wheels. It’s sealed, Wonwoo. I won fair and square, and I want my prize.”

Wonwoo turns to Soonyoung and the prominent pout on his lips. Lips that will be bruised in an awful manner come morning if things don’t go his way tonight. He glances at Jisoo for reinforcement, but the older man is not interested in offering him any kind of help. instead, he only crosses his arms and leans against Archangel’s passenger door, brown eyes fixated on Mingyu’s figure.

In all honesty, Wonwoo just wants to get it over with. There’s one thing Mingyu wants which Wonwoo is in a special position to give him, and if he chooses to do so, this whole thing goes away just like _that_. Better alternatives be damned, Wonwoo makes up his mind. 

His gaze travels back to find Mingyu’s. “You’re _not_ taking Archangel with you,” Wonwoo states with as much finality lacing his tone as he can gather.

Mingyu straightens his back. His dark eyes narrow at Wonwoo and for a split second, he sees a flash of red there. Hot, searing anger. Then it dissipates into the night air as quickly as it had come.

“So you will have me leave empty-handed after a successful hunt?”

“I didn’t say that.” Wonwoo takes a deep breath and braces himself for impact. “You’re going to take me instead.”

“Huh,” Mingyu says to that, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Is this you finally gaining some common sense and agreeing to join my crew?”

Jisoo pushes himself off of Archangel’s side and glares at Wonwoo, clearly uncomfortable with the development of the situation. All of the people currently present here in this abandoned lot possess the knowledge to a consensus: Mingyu has been trying to steal Wonwoo from Jeonghan from the moment he laid eyes on him. 

It’s an open secret. 

It’s what the girls whisper when they see Wonwoo rolling into a scene in Jeonghan’s passenger seat, Mingyu following their car with his eyes until it’s parked on the other end of the tracks, as far away as Jeonghan can keep Wonwoo away from him. 

It’s in the drunken babbling of his gang mates, shoulders bumping into Wonwoo’s hard enough for him to suspect there’s an intention to hurt there, them swaying on their feet and asking him, _“You’re not gonna turn on us for the Wolves, are you?”_

“No,” Wonwoo shakes his head, lowering his head just so he can look at Mingyu through his lashes. _Take the bait, pup_. “But I am going to ride with you in your car. We go back to yours and then I’ll ride _you_. How does that sound?”

He hears an indignant snort and considers jamming his fist up Jisoo’s nose for that irreverent response alone. How dare he shows Wonwoo an ounce of disrespect? And after Wonwoo dragged his cold ass out of his warm bed to save him and his impulsive crock of a boyfriend, too?

The air around them stills as Mingyu mulls over the proposition, eyes boring a hole through Wonwoo’s line of defences. The moment is over quickly. Mingyu shoots everyone a winning grin and moves aside to open his door for Wonwoo.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Wonwoo shifts to look at Soonyoung.

“Go put Archangel back where you find her and have Myungho look her over. Anything out of place should be rectified before Jeonghan comes back tomorrow morning.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes at him, a flippant gesture he picks up from his boyfriend, no doubt, and Wonwoo’s has had enough of their antics for the night so he snaps, “Do it tonight, no fucking out of your responsibilities because I’m already bailing you out of this one.”

The tiger opens his mouth and Wonwoo snaps his jaws shut before a roar can be heard.

“And what were you thinking?” He takes one step closer to Soonyoung, towering over him. The blond isn’t so brave now; no longer the King of the Jungle he parades himself to be. “Competing against _him_?” he points an index finger at Mingyu’s direction, “You’re a joke.”

← ← ← ← ← ← 

Mingyu’s car smell of his cologne, the heady scent filling up and overtaking Wonwoo’s senses. Wonwoo rolls the window on his side down halfway and looks out to the empty streets. Houses with their porch light turned on and nothing else. A stray cat dashes across the road and vanishes into the darkness. The moon, high up in the sky, beautiful and unreachable.

Just like Mingyu was, before tonight.

“Did you wear a helmet today?”

“Hmm? When I have ever worn a helmet?” Mingyu answers without looking at him. “I’m driving in a car anyway.”

He has one gloved hand curled around the steering wheel, 10 o’clock, the other one laid idle on his upper thigh. Wonwoo wonders what would happen if he reaches out and links their fingers together, slips his in the gaps between Mingyu’s and just squeezes. 

What repercussions would he have to face? Will the world fall apart around its axis? Or would it keep on rotating as though nothing has changed?

Which outcome is worse?

“Still putting your life at unnecessary risk as a hobby, then.”

“Is that concern I hear in your voice?” This time, he receives an inquisitive side glance. A split second, that’s all, then Mingyu’s eyes are back on the road. “You do know that practically everything we do is illegal.”

“Right,” Wonwoo gives in to him. “We can all land in jail, but you’ll land in a fresh grave before the cops can make their first arrest.”

There’s a beat of silence that hangs in the air between them by a thin red string.

Mingyu’s voice is subdued when he speaks again, awe spilling from his syllables. “So you are worried about me.”

“Just wear a helmet next time,” Wonwoo continues to chide him for his bad habit that seems to die very, very hard. “It doesn’t make you less of a man.”

Perhaps he’s a fool for still trying to get Mingyu to do as he asks when all of his previous pleas have fallen on deaf ears.

“You’re grumpier than usual today. Did they wake you up?”

Wonwoo ignores his use of the phrase _than usual_ and the implication that he’s conscious of Wonwoo’s habits and tells. 

“What else do you think I’d be doing at,” Wonwoo glances at the digital clock on the dashboard, “1:40 in the morning? Tricking someone into a race I know they’d lose just for the fun of it?”

“Hey, I didn’t _trick_ Soonyoung into anything. He’s a good driver who thinks he can win if only he has access to a good machine.”

Wonwoo tugs at his seatbelt so he can angle his body toward Mingyu. “We both know he’s leagues behind you in technique.”

“Fine. I’ll admit it.” Mingyu adjusts his grip on the steering wheel before he confesses, “The next official meet isn’t for another couple of weeks and I already missed you so badly.” 

It stuns Wonwoo how Mingyu’s always managed to say these things without stuttering through his sentences. Without letting a speck of doubt decorate his words, only allowing conviction to seep through them instead. Without worry over what might happen next, even though what has been said out loud can’t be so easily taken back. 

“That what you want to hear?”

_Yes_. 

Unfortunately, unlike Mingyu, Wonwoo has his worries. Good reasons to have them, too.

“When will you stop trying to recruit me?” he returns Mingyu’s question with another one of his own. “I’m loyal to Jeonghan. It’d be great if you can figure how to deal with that fact at any point this year.”

“This is me dealing with it.”

“You’re doing a poor job at that,” he comments. “What’s so special about me anyway? I’m just a mechanic.”

They both recognise that the word _mechanic_ is an understatement to Wonwoo’s special set of skills in arbitration and all things numbers. Nevertheless, it’s his official title in the group and it’s what he’s allowed to say in the presence of outsiders. Therefore, it is what he pretends to be in front of Mingyu.

In his late-night fantasies, his wildest dreams, Wonwoo would curl in his bed with his fingers buried deep within himself and let his imagination take over, the shape of Mingyu’s smile imprinted onto the back of his eyelids. The Wonwoo in his head would be stripped bare of all of his pretences, nothing but his true self presented for the younger man to stake his claim over.

“What’s special about you is the fact that I’m in love with you.”

Wonwoo’s heard that before, so often that he’s lost count of how many declarations he’s gotten from Mingyu, and yet it never fails to take his breath away every time.

“Slow down.” He turns away from the younger again, in case his elation materialises on his face. “You’re going over speed limits in residential areas. There are security cams at the traffic light on the next intersection.” 

As much as Wonwoo wills his heart to stay silent, it decides to go against his wish and makes a rather large ruckus inside his ribcage. If anyone were to place a stethoscope over his chest at this moment, all they would hear are dissonant sounds. Chaos. They’d admit him to an emergency unit on the spot and he’d have to tell them that the cause of his symptom is hopeless infatuation.

He’s surprised that he’s able to maintain his composure when he attempts to get ahead of Mingyu, passing a wild, “Is that how eager you are to get me underneath you?” to the younger’s court.

“Yes,” comes the clear-cut answer, delivered without missing a single beat.

So much for trying.

→→→→→→

“Well?” Mingyu coaxes him when Wonwoo remains unmoving after he gets out of the car. He’s standing rooted to his spot in the middle of Mingyu’s garage. “Unless you want to have sex in here, I suggest we move.”

The gravity of the situation has just hit Wonwoo. It’s been years. Years spent playing cat-and-mouse, Wonwoo rolling his eyes at Mingyu’s professions of love because acknowledging it would open a can of worms or something else just as awful. Years—until one night, _this_ night. Without any warning sent nor plans made, Wonwoo finds himself here. With Mingyu.

How surreal.

Swallowing his trepidation whole, Wonwoo takes a step forward. Tentative, but still. It’s progress.

“Lead the way.”

The smile Mingyu offers him is dim, but it’s similar the one his mind conjures up when he’s pleasuring himself in the comfort of his own room. Wonwoo fixes his pants to make space for the tent already beginning to form beneath the fabric before he follows Mingyu inside. He’s never been here before, though it’s definitely not due to lack of trying on Mingyu’s part.

Wonwoo’s just never had a reason to pay Mingyu a visit at his residence. Even tonight, the rationale of his presence right in the heart of enemy territory is questionable at best. That doesn’t mean Wonwoo doesn’t understand the situation he is in rather perfectly. 

He’s not a victim of convenience who was caught in a wrong place at a wrong time. Wonwoo is a victim of choice; a knight abducted from his impregnable castle while the king’s defences are down. 

He is Mingyu’s intended target.

In that case, Stockholm syndrome must be real, because given the opportunity to do it all over again Wonwoo will make the same choices. He’d even hand Soonyoung the keys to Archangel himself. 

“Oh, you’re back,” Seokmin blinks sleepily at them from the couch. Hansol’s head is pillowed on his chest, the younger man drooling a small, wet patch onto Seokmin’s fluffy sweater. “Are you h—”

Wonwoo suspects he meant to ask Mingyu if he needs his head checked or a wound dressed, but as soon as his eyes land on Wonwoo’s figure, Seokmin’s jaw drops.

“Brought a guest,” Mingyu cocks his head in Wonwoo’s direction before he bends down to take his shoes off.

“Yeah, I can see _that_.” In the dark, Wonwoo sees Seokmin rolling his eyes, though the gesture is more affectionate than hostile. “Did you take him hostage?”

“I came without coercion,” Wonwoo supplies, setting his own shoes next to Mingyu's.

Seokmin looks sceptical.

“I just got Hansol to rest, so if your boys come here with their weapons drawn and disturb his sleep I’ll be really pissed, okay? And you know I’m good with a scalpel.”

Mingyu wraps a hand around Wonwoo’s wrist and tugs him in the direction of the stairs. 

“We get it. We’ll get out of your hair now.”

His hand remains there as he navigates the two of them through the turns and twists of the staircase, all the way until they get to his bedroom. He pulls Wonwoo through the door and proceeds to back him against the wood. 

The movement has all the alarms in Wonwoo’s head ringing until it turns out that all Mingyu wants to do is lock the door. With one hand sneaking around Wonwoo’s waist, he does exactly that, then he moves away. 

He stands next to the bed and holds his horses.

Breathing in, Wonwoo removes his cap and settles it above the drawer right next to the door. He runs his fingers through his locks until it’s all mussed up. Too bad he’s just had it cropped short. He has a feeling Mingyu would appreciate being able to tug at his hair more. 

“Your turn,” he tells Mingyu.

The racer lifts a hand to the side of his neck. He unclasps the hook holding the strap of his shoulder piece together before he rips the item off his arm and throws it to the side. 

Wonwoo moves his own chess piece across the board, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it to land perfectly on top of Mingyu’s discarded article. 

Sharp eyes follow the slightest of movements he makes. Wonwoo tilts his head to the right and patiently waits for his opponent’s next move.

Mingyu turns in his spot and Wonwoo’s confused for a second as to why the younger is showing him his back—then he realises that there’s a line of zipper there, right across Mingyu’s shoulder blades. The younger reaches for it. It’s a little awkward, as he can’t see what he’s aiming for properly, but leave it Mingyu to get the job done in the most sensual way possible. 

Slowly, he tugs one of the sliders to one end of the line, the drag of each teeth being undone hammering inside Wonwoo’s own head, then he does the same to the other. As soon as he’s done, the black fabric previously clinging to his body drops to the floor, landing lifelessly next to his feet. Mingyu turns to face him again and Wonwoo’s heart flutters at the sight.

His movement gives Wonwoo access to the endless stretch of bronze skin which he silently vows to paint in red, purple, and white before the sun rises. Mingyu's pectorals are the 8th wonder of the world and he’s not about to start waxing poetic about his abdominal muscles lest he’ll lose all focus necessary for the main act. 

He makes a promise to himself, though: those four quadrants of his stomach? He’ll map every last inch of them with his tongue. 

Now.

It’s his turn to take his shirt off, but Wonwoo deems it far more interesting if he shows Mingyu what’s hidden beneath his cargo pants, so he drags his zipper down slowly, taking his time with it. Almost too painfully slow, seeing as Mingyu’s eyes are about to bulge out of their sockets by the time he reaches the bottom of the zipper.

Wonwoo jams his thumb beneath the waistline of his pants and they slide down to pool around his ankles effortlessly. Mingyu’s jaw goes slack. Holding back a smile, Wonwoo slips out of his pants and rids them using nothing but his legs, purposefully parading the length and proportion out of display for Mingyu’s viewing pleasure. 

Only then does he pretend to stretch out on his toes, his hands held high above his head until his slightly oversized shirt hikes up past his crotch and allows Mingyu a full view of the lace underwear he has on. It's soft cotton, white, and there’s very little coverage over the front. Wonwoo plays this fact to his advantage, slightly pulling at the hem of his shirt so he can brush his fingers over a single protruding hipbone, jutting out from beneath flushed skin.

“Fuck,” the racer breaks the silence, sitting down on the bed as though the sight of Wonwoo in lingerie takes all the power out of his knees. “You wear that often or did I just catch you on a good night?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would.”

One of these days, he has to learn to stop asking rhetorical questions around Mingyu.

“Yeah, I do,” Wonwoo tells him candidly. “It fuels my ego to know how pretty I am underneath all the layers I put on and yet, at the end of the night, no one gets to see any of it but me.”

“I’m seeing plenty tonight, though,” the younger man points out. Instead of cockiness in his voice, there's simply reverence. "Lucky me.”

“That’s right. Lucky you.”

He stares and Wonwoo a little bit more before he blinks, seemingly snapping himself out of the spell Wonwoo’s put him under. Mingyu undoes his buckle, yanks it loose with all his patience washed away, a sense of urgency replacing it. He lifts his hips up from the mattress just enough to tug his pants down and off completely. His underwear goes with them. 

Oh.

He’s twice as hung as Wonwoo imagines him to be. 

Of course.

Wonwoo gulps thickly.

“Am I adequate enough for you?”

He stifles a laugh. The way Mingyu poses the question is very befitting of his character. Wonwoo can’t imagine a single soul in this universe who’d say no as an answer to his question but still, he deems it necessary to ask anyway. A fishing expedition, in a way, for compliments. Wonwoo, well, Wonwoo is gone on him, so he retracts his claws and puts it away for use another day.

His voice is a little breathy when he says, “Even if I were a size queen, I wouldn’t have a single complaint in mind.” 

“Will you come here?” 

Wonwoo goes to him willingly. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other, until he’s standing right between Mingyu’s legs. Mingyu shifts back on the bed and Wonwoo takes it as an invitation to position himself on his lap, which is exactly what he does next. 

Knees above the mattress at first, then he moves forward until he’s properly seated on Mingyu's thighs. Mingyu’s hands come to steady him by the hips before they slide to rest on the small of his back. Above his shirt—a gentleman as always.

Unsure of where to rest his hands, Wonwoo simply brings them to the base of Mingyu’s skull, caressing the short hairs he finds there. Mingyu’s eyes flutter close at the contact, breath hitching in his throat. When he opens them again, there’s purpose and resolution reflected in his orbs.

“Can I kiss you?”

The answers to Mingyu’s question is delivered directly to his mouth, courtesy to Wonwoo’s own impatience. He keeps the contact light. A greeting. _Hello_. Mingyu welcomes him with a sigh, relief almost tangible in the soft sound he omits. _Welcome._ And maybe also: _finally. I’ve been waiting for you_. 

Then Mingyu parts his lips and Wonwoo lets his tongue wander inside the younger’s mouth. The glide of their tongues together sends tiny sparks up Wonwoo’s spine. They spread through his entire body until there’s a steady stream of electricity coursing through his veins, Mingyu lighting him up like a Christmas tree with every kiss, every lick, every pant he lets out against his mouth.

“What?” asks Mingyu, his eyes half-lidded when Wonwoo pulls away with a poorly concealed smile on his face.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s really nothing.”

“Tell me anyway,” he urges gently, thumb rubbing circles onto Wonwoo’s back, the pressure grounding.

Wonwoo yields to him. Not for the first time tonight, and definitely not the last. “You taste exactly how I imagined you would.” 

A mix of strawberry bubblegum and all the good things life has to offer.

“You’ve thought about how I taste?”

Ah. Check-mate. Wonwoo thinks about deflecting but quickly realises there isn’t any point in that. He’s already here, straddling Mingyu’s lap and leaking precum into his underwear.

“Once or twice.”

Mingyu grins at that.

_Happy_. 

With one swift move, he switches their position, flipping Wonwoo over until he’s pinned underneath him. 

_Eager_. 

The older man tilts his head back onto the pillow and shoots him an inviting look, one he knows Mingyu won’t be able to resist. True enough, Mingyu groans before he descends to connect their lips again. 

_Greedy_.

Wonwoo memorises all of Mingyu's countenances down to the subtlest furrowing of his brows and hides the list in a precious nook in his mind, away from any possible harm.

Though he feels his control slipping away from his grasp, he still gives assent to everything Mingyu does to him. From the kisses that grow more and more heated with each passing second to the adventurous hand that roams down his body until they reach his bare thighs, he takes them all in stride. Once Mingyu’s palm finds his warm skin, the younger pulls away.

He twirls the end of Wonwoo’s shirt and slips a finger beneath the garment.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo reassures him. “It’s more than okay.”

Mingyu begins to push his shirt up little by little, drawing a path of chaste kisses over the patch of skin he’s newly exposed. He begins from Wonwoo’s happy trail right above his underwear up to his stomach, then across his chest, paying each of his nipples a short visit before his mouth finds Wonwoo’s sternum. 

It’s there that he parts his lips and starts sucking his first impression on Wonwoo’s body. Wonwoo holds back a moan but Mingyu catches it anyway, just like he’s caught every other detail about him.

The younger man brackets Wonwoo’s head with his forearm and stares down at him with glimmering orbs, a hint of amusement dancing in them. 

“How come you’re all bark and no bite, huh?”

“If you want me to bite you, just use your words,” Wonwoo retorts offhandedly. 

“Then bite me, please.” Mingyu sinks lower, offering Wonwoo his neck. “Mark me up, baby.” Wonwoo’s body practically vibrates from his arousal. Of course, Mingyu catches on to that fact as well. “You like that, don’t you?”

“Like what?”

“Being called baby.”

A shudder rips through him again before he can stop his body from giving an honest reaction.

“Don’t worry,” Mingyu gives his word, solemn like a vow. “I won’t use it against you.”

“What a liar.” 

Wonwoo runs his hand down Mingyu’s sides, counting his ribs with his fingers before he drags them over the curve of his waist. He reaches the joint of Mingyu’s hip with his thigh and shifts his hand down until his palm brushes against Mingyu’s naked cock. Back and forth. Back and forth. This time, Mingyu is the one who shudders, putting his whole body into the act. 

“You will most definitely use it against me.”

He’s smiling down at Wonwoo and it’s a taste so sweet even though it probably shouldn’t be. Then again, if this is wrong, why does it feel so _right_?

“Only in your best interests, I promise.”

Wonwoo fakes incredulity but lifts his head from the pillow, releasing Mingyu from his teasing torture to pull his shirt over his head. The underwear is now the only thing still latching onto his body. Soon enough, it’ll be gone, too. 

Mingyu kisses his way down Wonwoo’s body once again, going back the way he came up until his face is hovering above Wonwoo’s crotch. A pair of warm hands slip underneath the cotton material to slide it down past the head of his cock, freeing Wonwoo from the last of his restraints. Wonwoo looks down at him, chin tucked against his chest, and finds Mingyu staring at him, bottom lip tugged between his teeth.

He fixes his pillow to prop his head higher and allow him a better look at Mingyu. There’s incertitude in the younger’s features, though the hands that keep sliding south and south are nothing but sure in their movements. Studying Mingyu at this moment, Wonwoo decides to rely on his intuition.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

Lifting his gaze to meet Wonwoo’s, Mingyu admits faintly, “No, not really. I’ve just been playing it by the ear.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means… the number of times I’ve done this, I can count in one hand.” Wonwoo’s inner thoughts must have materialised on his face—his surprise at the divulgence, his doubts, his questions: what does _this_ entail, exactly?—because Mingyu asks him, “That a problem to you?”

“No, just—” He clears his throat when his voice cracks. “I hate to inflate your ego even further but you know you can have anyone you want, right?”

“You were pretty hard to come by,” Mingyu points out.

What Wonwoo hears is him saying: _you are the only one I want_. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s verbalised that sentiment. His control is now water in a closed fist—a droplet here and there, but not enough remains to be of any consequence. 

Will he catch me if I fall, Wonwoo wonders. Will he, won’t he. 

It doesn’t matter what the answer is because Mingyu presses a brave kiss to the tip of his erection and Wonwoo is in zero gravity, suspended in the air with all his anticipation. Can’t fall this way—Mingyu simply won’t let him.

“And yet I’m here, aren’t I? Somehow you make things work in your favour.”

Mingyu rests his cheek above Wonwoo’s thigh. “I still think I’ll blink one time and you’ll be gone.”

_Same here_.

“‘M not planning on going anywhere without my orgasm, that’s the least you could do after dragging me out of bed at this hour.” Wonwoo extends his hands to him, reaching for Mingyu.

He moves to comply with Wonwoo’s wish. Drags his body up the bed again, bears down on Wonwoo’s figure, kisses him senseless. In that exact order? Perhaps. Wonwoo’s thoughts are far too clouded now. Mingyu peppers close-mouthed ministrations across Wonwoo’s jawline when he’s done with his mouth, never once fully pulling away from the older man. 

Though he shares Mingyu’s want for closeness, Wonwoo can’t help but chuckle. The big bad wolf isnow nothing more than a harmless cub. He’s tamed, successfully brought to his heel by Wonwoo. 

“Now who’s really the one that’s all bark and no bite?”

Mingyu responds to the offence by sinking his teeth into his neck. Wonwoo’s back arches off the mattress.

“F-fuck.”

The hum Mingyu omits vibrates across his skin. His warm tongue laps at the bite mark, soothing. A momentary reprieve of sorts, for soon enough Mingyu repeats the action and sinks a little deeper this time around. If the first bite was an experiment to see how far he can go without breaking skin, the second one seems to have it as the goal instead. Unfortunately, Mingyu stops before Wonwoo can feel those sharp incisors puncturing holes in his body. 

There’s a loud rattling to his right that demands his attention. Wonwoo turns his face to look for the source and it’s Mingyu’s hand blindly patting all the objects inside his drawer until he finds the item he’s looking for. As soon as the bottle of lube is in his grasp, Mingyu slams the drawer close and Wonwoo genuinely believes this is the most he’s ever smiled during sex. 

He pries Mingyu’s fingers from around the bottle and the younger lets him, still kissing Wonwoo’s neck like his life depends on it. Wonwoo uncaps the bottle with the flick of his thumb and squeezes its content onto the back of Mingyu’s palm that’s rested above the mattress, spilling the liquid carelessly all over the sheets. The act finally has Mingyu pulling away from him with a frown on his face. 

_Naughty_ , his eyes seem to scold Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo doesn’t care.

He distributes the substance evenly over Mingyu’s index and middle fingers using his own. Then, he guides said hand to his entrance. Mingyu licks his lips in nervous anticipation but he doesn’t voice a protest, not that Wonwoo thinks he has any to begin with. 

The moment Mingyu’s cold fingers smooth right around his rim, Wonwoo seeks his gaze once again. Confirmation; he needs it. Mingyu gives it to him and more, leaning down to pass Wonwoo his consent across their tongues.

“You ever fingered a guy before?”

“One guy.”

“Doing it to yourself doesn’t count.”

“One guy.”

“And what’s his review of your performance?”

That line of inquiry earns him a soft laugh. “The sooner you stop talking and let me show you what I can do, the sooner you can give me your own review.”

He slowly presses his way in, a pad of finger—it’s the middle one, he thinks—covers Wonwoo’s hole before it slips past the ring of muscle. 

One knuckle deep, Wonwoo seizes his wrist. “Don’t push the wrong buttons up there,” he warns Mingyu.

The racer rests their foreheads together, pure mirth flowing out of him and filling the air around them. “I’m so head over heels for you, you know?”

It turns out that Mingyu knows what he’s doing for the most part. He has Wonwoo’s head lolling to the side as he works to scissor him open, his mouth continuing with his previous exploration of Wonwoo’s body. There’s this _thing_ he does, a series of movement involving mouth and tongue and teeth over Wonwoo’s nipple, that drives him to the edge of sanity. It’s broad strokes and light grazes—so many sensations all at once. Wonwoo’s neck is strained with how much pressure is building up within him, veins ready to pop anytime. 

As if it’s not embarrassing enough that Wonwoo is coming undone like this, but when he tries to hold back the obscene noises escaping him, it annoys Mingyu enough to shove two fingers of his free hand down Wonwoo’s throat—which obviously has his cock throbbing shamelessly, erection growing to a full one. 

Wonwoo is so desperate already that if he has to spend another minute being fingered instead of filled with the younger’s cock, he’d beg Mingyu to fuck him like a soiled whore. Maybe Mingyu will like it.

In a fortunate turn of events, Mingyu slides his fingers out of Wonwoo and wipes them against the sheets before he even has to ask. _Yes_. 

But then he swings his legs off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Wonwoo sounds a little more distressed than he would like to admit.

“Relax. Condoms are in the bathroom,” Mingyu pauses here, blinking owlishly at Wonwoo. “I think.”

Oh, great. Absolutely wonderful. He doesn’t even know for sure if he has a condom to fuck Wonwoo with. What kind of joke—

“You _think_?”

Mingyu is quick to rise to his own defence. “I mean, how was I supposed to know you were going to let me have this?”

Well, that’s—that’s a good one. Point to him. Wonwoo’s hackles settle down.

“Hey,” Mingyu flashes him a salacious smile. At least he courageously attempts to do so. “Why don’t you… keep yourself wet for me? I’ll be back before you know it.”

Okay. Dirty-talk is definitely not his forte. Wonwoo supposes that only makes him human. No one can look like _that_ and is _that_ gifted in his proportions and still be good at everything he does. Now that is just plain unfair. Mingyu has to have some flaws too.

“Go and get the thing.”

He disappears into the ensuite bathroom and remerges not a minute later, a triumphant grin on his face and a bunch of condoms cupped in his palms. Wonwoo raises his eyebrows because he’s pretty sure there’s only two of them here in contrast to the dozen packages Mingyu’s brought out, but he’s not as silly as to vocalise his thought out loud. 

Mingyu drops the condoms above the bed and Wonwoo sits up to reach for one, moves the rest out of the way with a sweep of his forearm. 

“Come here,” he beckons Mingyu closer.

It’s a menial task to tear the package, place the condom over the head of Mingyu’s cock, and roll it down his shaft. Still, Wonwoo does it with the utmost care, movement gentle and graceful as he wraps his hand around Mingyu’s now covered hardness and squeezes to get the bits of air out. He feels Mingyu watching him, gaze travelling up from Wonwoo’s hands to his face.

After he’s satisfied with the result, Wonwoo lets go of him and lifts his chin.

_Your turn_. 

For how steady they’ve always been placed around the steering wheel or clutching his gear, Mingyu’s hands are now trembling in front of him. Not so much so that the bottle of lube slips out of his grasp, but it’s not exactly subtle. Out of courtesy, Wonwoo plans on moving forward without mentioning it, but Mingyu murmurs a soft apology and the whole act crumbles around them.

He takes Mingyu’s hands in his. The trembling subsides a fraction at the contact until it stops completely. 

“I’ve never seen you this nervous,” Wonwoo mentions lightly. 

No ill intention there, he’s simply stating his observation.

“Well,” Mingyu lets out a shaky breath, “I’ve never had you in my bed before. You don’t really come with instructions, you know.”

“Should I give you some, then?” 

Wonwoo means it as a light jab to quickly alleviate the situation, but something akin to wonder passes over Mingyu’s features before he gives him a nod. And so he winds his arms around the younger’s neck and brings Mingyu’s body with him when he leans back again. Their chest pressed together, twin hardness sliding against one another down south. 

When he breaks off from Mingyu, he does so with a gasp. The skin around the younger’s mouth is reddened, the shade beautiful. Wonwoo slips a hand between their bodies to wrap around Mingyu’s shaft, down down down until he gets to the base, then tightens his grip gently. Mingyu nuzzles at his cheek and allows Wonwoo free rein. 

He guides Mingyu to his entrance. “Don’t go slamming your way inside like you're changing gears,” he says.

Mingyu withdraws from Wonwoo’s personal space to sit between his spread legs. The only thing stopping the older man from whining at the loss of proximity is the promise of what’s to come.

“Tease me first, rub yourself around my rim. Press in just the head.” Mingyu does as he’s told, ears perking up when Wonwoo lets out a small moan in response, no longer bothering to hold himself back. “Ah—and… see how I take you. If it’s tight, then you have to go in slow.”

Mingyu crunches his nose at the word _slow_ as if it offends him. Wonwoo thinks it must have, one way or another. He supposes if Mingyu can delete one word from the thesaurus, it would be slow.

“It’s. Tight, um. For me.” He’s cute, Wonwoo notes absentmindedly, he’s really cute like this. “How tight does it feel right now? For you?” 

“Quite, but I can take another inch.”

Mingyu presses himself closer, palms smoothening over the back of Wonwoo’s thighs to ensure he keeps them apart. He gives Wonwoo a little more of himself, just as Wonwoo’s instructed him to.

Both regret and satisfaction wash over Wonwoo when a feeling of discomfort shoots up his spine; a short adjustment period before his body fully accommodates for the younger’s girth settling inside him. Mingyu’s fucking huge. Wonwoo takes a moment to regulate his breathing and opens his eyes—he didn’t even realise they had fallen shut at some point.

“Now pull out until only the tip remains inside. Go all the way out, even.” Mingyu looks confused but doesn’t question Wonwoo’s orders. “And do it all over again. Add one more inch at the end.” The confusion becomes more evident and he sees the question on the tip of Mingyu’s tongue, about to be set free.

Wonwoo anticipates it before it comes.

“Place your hand here,” he taps at his stomach. A palm slides over his bare skin obediently and Wonwoo covers it with his own, pressing the hand beneath him down against his body. “Feel that?” 

“Yeah.”

“When you thrust in, you push air up into my abdomen,” Wonwoo tells him, putting pressure on Mingyu’s fingers. “That’s the coil there.”

“That’s why I gotta pull out every now and then? To relieve the pressure?”

Smart, smart man. What a quick-learner.

“You can just do whatever, I suppose, but there’s a chance it’ll hurt your partner a little at the end if you rush it.”

Mingyu hums an affirmative at his explanation before he focuses his attention back to the task at hand. 

“How do I know when it’s okay to start moving differently?” 

“Watch me.” 

It’s both a directive and a request. 

“My body language. Initially, it stings, it always stings, but soon enough the friction will become a drug I’m addicted to. Then I can’t get enough of you, filling me up, rubbing against me from the inside out. I’d want every inch of you touching every inch of me.” 

Mingyu is sliding in and out of him with much more ease now and Wonwoo’s about to fulfil the words he’s just spoken out loud. 

“You do know how to spot pleasure, don’t you?”

A pair of dark eyes settle on Wonwoo’s face. 

“That’s how you know when you can move the way you want.”

Mingyu nods.

“In the meantime, kiss my neck.” 

The shifting of Mingyu’s body as he descends changes the angle of his thrusts into Wonwoo and _holy shit_ , when the blunt tip of Mingyu’s dick finally meets his prostate, Wonwoo discovers the reason why people sin. Why lust, for one, is classified deadly. The gratification is out of this world; it sends every cell in his body rocketing to the stratosphere. 

“You can make it bruise.” His voice is hoarse, so stupidly hoarse. He hopes Mingyu gets the hint and leave him with a mark he can’t hide. Wonwoo will wear it with pride, parade it around for everyone to see. “If that’s the kind of thing you’re into.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Mingyu noses along the column of his neck. “Baby… tell me.”

“I would.”

It’s almost entirely too much to have Mingyu’s teeth skimming his collarbone and biting down hard enough for Wonwoo to wince, all that exquisite sensation coupled with the propulsion of his hips again and again and again. Wonwoo’s senses are in overdrive; he’s lightheaded.

He can’t— “Now,” that sounds like a whine, “kiss me.”

Mingyu obeys. His hand frames Wonwoo’s chin, angling his face up as he kisses him thoroughly, alternating between Wonwoo’s lower and upper lip, stealing a few licks in between. Wonwoo just knows his mouth will be swollen when they’re through but he doesn’t care much for it, instead he reels Mingyu in and inhales his scent.

Breathing has become a bother now, as it means he has to release Mingyu every now and then. His lungs scream their protest at him and Wonwoo tells them to shut up.

They separate for the nth time before Wonwoo thinks to end this torture already. 

“Bring your hand,” he has to pause for a moment when Mingyu all but rams at his sweet spot. “Here,” Wonwoo carries on, positioning Mingyu’s thumb over his nipple. “You can’t exactly put your mouth on me in this position, but you can rub or pinch. Some people like it when it hurts.”

“Do you?”

_I don’t care about some people, just you_.

“A little.”

His honesty results in Mingyu trapping his nipple between his thumb and index finger, pinching the puckered bud with just enough pressure to make Wonwoo paint his stomach with trickles of white fluid. Some of it is sticking to Mingyu’s own lower half now. 

The younger kisses him again and Wonwoo will never tire of this no matter how many times he gets to relive the act. He brings his hands around Mingyu's shoulders and tips his head back.

“You’re tightening up,” Mingyu notes, words murmured to the edge of Wonwoo’s shoulder.

He gives him a bite there.

“Yeah. Now’s a good time to put your hands on either side of my waist.” Mingyu moves away to follow his direction. “When you move away and push back in, bring my body down to meet yours.”

Wonwoo helps him out when Mingyu begins to carry out the deed, impaling himself on the younger’s length and letting whatever noises he makes fill the quiet in the room, sounds complimenting the indecent slaps of Mingyu’s thighs against his own. He clenches around Mingyu, then unclenches to give him room to breathe before he clamps down tighter, wringing the last of Mingyu’s will power out of him.

_Yield to me_.

He fixes his eyes on Mingyu’s face, the line of perspiration down the side of his temple, the wet path it makes to the edge of his jaw. Wonwoo wants to lick it clean and lets the salt coat his tongue, replacing the sugar that’s been there since the beginning. 

_Come on, succumb._

“Does it feel good?” asks Wonwoo, though the answer is rather clear. “Feels so good for me. You, ah, you…”

Mingyu grunts.

Wonwoo pushes himself down on him all the way to the hilt and witnesses the downfall of a great hero.

“Ah…” he lets out, purposeful. His hips rolling, chasing Mingyu whenever he retreats. “Ngh... Min, gyu. Mingyu.”

There’s a sharp hissing sound, similar to or perhaps it is actually air being sucked through the gaps between closed teeth, then Mingyu is toppling over. 

“Fuck, I can’t,” he pants before he slumps against Wonwoo, his larger figure fully covering Wonwoo’s leaner one. 

His left hand braces above the mattress, fisting the sheets, but his hips are moving. _Stuttering_ is the more accurate word to describe his motion at this point. Still, all in all, he’s not stationary. It seems that Mingyu just doesn’t have enough strength left in him to straighten his back. 

Wonwoo frames the younger’s face in his hands and brings their mouth together. While they kiss, he hooks his ankles behind Mingyu’s ass and urges him deeper.

“Faster,” Wonwoo demands upon separation, hands moving to his back where his nails draw long lines down Mingyu’s spine, his muscles rippling beneath them with every forward piston of his hips into Wonwoo.

A weak grin forms against the crook of Wonwoo’s neck at his request. “Now you’re talking my language.”

_Faster_ is exactly what Mingyu delivers. His movements grow frantic and sloppy, nowhere near the controlled pace he had worked so hard to established at the beginning. Mingyu is slipping too, his foundations unsteady beneath him. Wonwoo’s body jolts up the bed with every snap of his hips and there’s nothing in the world he’d exchange for this moment right here.

“You know I’m yours, right?” Mingyu whispers into Wonwoo's ears, one second before he feels warmth spreading inside of him.

Mingyu comes in slow waves then and he climaxes without making a big show out of it. Wonwoo studies the subtle cracks on the paint job of his ceiling while Mingyu is occupied with filling him up. 

Lust, he’s well acquainted with. He’s well aware of what it’s like to use someone and to be used by someone, chasing the same high together but coming down alone because there’s nothing to be shared afterwards. This is not it. The press of Mingyu’s palm against his, soft hair tickling the side of his face, the very words _you know I’m yours, right?_ None of it is what he’s familiar with. 

Mingyu’s fingers slots in between his. 

He squeezes. 

Though Wonwoo’s heart stops, the world keeps on revolving.

He feels Mingyu throbbing inside and the warmth quickly melts into sensible heat, burning bright one last time to send Wonwoo across the finish line. 

←←←←←← 

They lie together in the dim, muted light of the bedroom. Afterglow is quiet with only the sounds of matching heartbeats captured by Wonwoo’s ears. Mingyu’s pulse is strong and steady, a reassurance all in its own.

“I’m still not leaving Jeonghan for you.”

Wonwoo hates to be the one doing this but he’s unable to see a future in which things end well for them if he does that. It’s not that he wants to bring Mingyu down from his high so quickly, it’s that he doesn’t want to lead him on. Mingyu deserves better than that and if Wonwoo not leaving Jeonghan a dealbreaker for him, then it’s the way things has to be.

But Mingyu only whistles before he asks, “After all _this?_ ” gesturing at their entangled limbs beneath the sheets. “Damn, you’re really backing me against the wall here.” His tone is playful but from his ease a question surfaces in Wonwoo’s mind.

A suspicion, to be precise.

Mingyu seems entirely too giddy for someone who’s just been told he can’t get the thing he wants the most. Unless, of course, Wonwoo’s got it all wrong.

“You get off on it, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Speed,” Wonwoo says quietly. “You feed off the thrill.”

Mingyu doesn’t answer him.

“That’s why you have no use for people,” he carries on, treading lightly on the delicate path. “You win a race, you come back, lock yourself in the bathroom and latch onto that euphoria while you fuck into your own fist, reliving every mile inch by inch in your head.”

“See?” Mingyu angles his face down to look at Wonwoo. “This is why I want you.”

“You can’t have me.”

“Because you’re Jeonghan’s?”

“Yes.”

“But you said it yourself,” the younger bargains, “you’re here now.”

That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Wonwoo’s life is so entwined with Jeonghan’s that even this—the one thing he's ever wanted for himself—he can’t have without Jeonghan intervening in the matter. Though if Jeonghan hadn’t been in the picture, Wonwoo wouldn’t have had the chance to meet Mingyu in the first place. Everything is just so, so complicated. All the strings twisted into a supercoil.

“I’m here _because_ of Jeonghan.”

The fact is irrefutable. 

Mingyu lifts a hand to stroke his cheek. “It's not that I want you to quit your crew. I know they're family. I feel the same way about mine.”

There it is. Wonwoo figures out as much but Mingyu’s words just confirm it for him.

“Then why have you been strutting around the place asking me to do that exact thing you just said you don’t want?”

“The first scene I went to, I saw you doing burnouts with Soonyoung’s old Mazda.”

That was so longago, the car in question is already crushed in a junkyard somewhere. 

“Then I watched you race against some guy and leave him in a trail of dust and smoke despite driving an unmodified car. I fell in love with you. With the way you ride.” 

Wonwoo remembers that night vividly. He doesn’t remember seeing Mingyu there, but his victory then had led to him being backed into a dead alley with a cold blade pressed against his throat. _No one likes a show-off, Jeon_. Jeonghan ordered him to stop racing after that and Wonwoo agreed. Though the implication at the time was to wait until things cool off, afterwards Wonwoo just kept thinking about pissing off the wrong man on the wrong night and ending up drenched out of his blood on the side of the road.

Fear, as much as it kills him to admit it, is why he doesn’t race anymore.

There is _always_ a risk.

“But after that night you never raced again and I could always see it in your eyes, how much you still want to.” 

Wonwoo does want to, so he’s not wrong on that count. Every time he has to stand on the sidelines and watch Jeonghan speeds off until he disappears from sight, it’s like the knife from that night had sliced him open anyway. 

“Since Jeonghan is the only person whose orders you take, I figure it’s his doing. If I can get you out, then…” 

Mingyu sighs heavily and Wonwoo can tell that it’s not all there is to the story. His hand slides to Wonwoo’s neck and rests there at the base. 

His eyes peer into Wonwoo’s own when he says, “You’re the only one here who has a real shot at winning against me.”

And yes. Yes, Wonwoo understands him. Wholly and completely. Which is why Mingyu’s repeatedly declared that he wants Wonwoo: because Wonwoo _knows_. He shares the feeling and the struggle, even after years of not racing. 

“Speed isn’t all that matters, is it?”

Mingyu wants victory to mean _something_. Is it really a battle worth fighting for if you know the outcome before you even unsheathe your sword?

“A man is only as good as his best competitor,” he acknowledges, voice devoid of any dishonesty. “Ask Jeonghan to let you back on the streets and I will stop putting both of us in the line of fire.” 

At this moment Wonwoo feels an urge to allow Mingyu the same insight to his inner working as the younger’s given him access to his. He wants to say, _it’s not Jeonghan, it’s me_. But he knows, the same he knows exactly how Mingyu feels before, that once he says the words there’ll be a look of disappointment on Mingyu’s face. He just—he won’t survive that. 

Some words he can’t take back. 

He’s a coward for this, but Wonwoo attempts to redirect the topic of their conversation by saying, “Assembling Archangel from her individual parts was the closest I can get to racing without slamming my foot down on the gas. I had to redo her so many times before I felt that she was _right_.”

Of course, Mingyu doesn’t let him win. “Ask him to let you race with her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

If Jeonghan doesn’t gut him for sleeping with Mingyu, he’d definitely gut Wonwoo for asking such things.

“What’s the point of racing if you don’t use the best car available to you?”

Wonwoo stares at him, lips set to a determined line. “You can give me a family mini-van and I’ll still beat your ass.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Mingyu answers him curtly. Wonwoo thinks they’ve reached the end of thistête-à-tête when a comfortable silence begins to blanket them once more, but then— “Wonwoo, what do you want from me?”

“What?”

“Just answer the question. It’s written all over your face, but I don’t know what it is.”

What can he say that won’t make things worse?

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Answer me.”

“Mingyu, I don’t—”

“Answer me.”

“I want to figure you out,” Wonwoo blurts out. “Even more than I already have, I want to figure you out.”

In his haste of providing an answer, Wonwoo finds himself caught dead to rights, like a deer in the headlights, a child with their hand shoved so far down the cookie jar. _In flagrante delicto_.

“I’m not a car.”

“Huh?”

“‘m not a car,” Mingyu tells him, softness in his eyes matching the one on his fingertips that’s trailing Wonwoo’s jaw. The side of his second digit tucks beneath Wonwoo’s chin and angles his face upward. “But if you want to pick me apart and observe every last screw you find, I’d let you. Just promise me you’ll put me back together at the end of it.”

This is trust, Wonwoo thinks idly, trust wrapped in a red ribbon and offered to him on a silver platter. This is more than the _I’m in love with you_ ’s and _I’m head over heels for you_ ’s and _I am yours_ ’s. This is Mingyu placing his head between the open jaws of a wolf and believing the monster won’t snap them close and crunch his skull with its teeth. 

This is Mingyu being utterly fearless in facing what’s ahead of them.

“Answer me this. What was tonight really about?”

Mingyu doesn’t waver. “Getting you to give me a chance.”

Yeah. Wonwoo knows. 

He cranes his neck to slot their mouths together and without separating from Mingyu, swings his legs over the younger’s body until he’s straddling Mingyu’s chest. 

“What are you doing?” Mingyu looks up at him, his eyes a pair of radiant stars.

“Riding you,” Wonwoo answers him in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m a man of my words.”

“Holy shit,” Mingyu laughs softly in response, wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead. “You still got some left in you?”

“You boys have big engines and all of it is just for show,” Wonwoo scoffs, rolling his shoulders as if he’s gearing up for a fight. “I can go on until morning unless you want to stop here.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Either keep up or lose, Mingyu.”

“I’m keeping up,” he decides in a heartbeat. It comes easy for him, the certainty. “Put the fucking stick in fifth and let’s drive, hm?”

If by _stick_ he means his cock and by _fifth gear_ he means Wonwoo’s welcoming hole, then yes, that sounds like a solid plan. So, Wonwoo grins and swoops down to kiss Mingyu to pass his agreement.

True to his words, Mingyu keeps up with him until the sun rises outside his window, soft rays of yellow penetrating through the gaps between his blinds. 

Not all of it is soft and slow like the first instance was, nor hot and fast as the second. 

Wonwoo, for all his bravado, is exactly what Mingyu perceives him to be. All bark and very little bite. He got depleted of his energy after the third or fourth round— really he started to lose count once there’s more of him that’s covered in Mingyu’s come or his than what isn’t. 

Near dawn they had sex on their sides, Mingyu’s arm wrapped around his waist pulling Wonwoo close as he slid in out of him easily, as Wonwoo’s properly stretched out from their previous rounds of play. Knowing fully well he’ll limp into next Monday, Wonwoo still clenched around Mingyu like it’s their last fuck on their last day on Earth, because who knows when he’d ever get the chance to taste heaven again. There’s no guarantee that the next time he walks into the room, Jeonghan wouldn’t put a bullet through his skull for his erratic behaviour. 

His thoughts all but scattered when Mingyu’s canine skimmed his shoulder before they dig deep into the flesh at the base of his neck. Wonwoo came just like that: soft pants into the pillow and fingers interlaced with the racer’s right above his navel.

→→→→→→

“Welcome home,” greets Jeonghan the moment Wonwoo enters the compound’s common area. “Heard you have a nice night.”

He’s sitting on his favourite armchair and stirring tea in one of the porcelain cups in his collection. Movement languid and body language relaxed. Wonwoo spots no guns in sight, though that doesn’t mean Jeonghan doesn’t have one tucked inside his jacket. 

“Don’t know what you’ve heard. Don’t care.” He tries a shot at being nonchalant, hoping Jeonghan would let this incident slide. “I’m going to bed.” 

As he moves to make his escape, Jeonghan calls out to him. “Wonwoo.” 

_Stop,_ is what he really means.

_Shit_.

Sighing, Wonwoo turns around to face him. “You slept with Mingyu.” Jeonghan’s not asking a question as much as he’s demanding a justification for Wonwoo’s choice.

“What was I supposed to do? It’s either that or he takes your precious baby. We both know which option is more unacceptable.”

“Bull-fucking-shit.” 

Of course, Jeonghan sees right through him. Half their lives have gone by since they first met, this man in front of him understands Wonwoo better than any lover could. Except maybe— 

“You could charm the venom out of a snake and you expect me to believe you can’t find a way to outsmart Mingyu? Admit it. A part of you has always wanted his cock.”

His eyes fall shut.

“This is not the kind of gratitude I expected from you,” Wonwoo comments, trying to keep his voice level.

“C’mon. Admit it.” Jeonghan rises from his seat and makes his way to him. Every step he makes is a taunt. _Scared now? Gonna run? Where to?_ “How big is he, huh? You can’t even walk straight.”

Fuck it. “Bigger than you,” Wonwoo decides to spat with the last of his energy.

In return for his rejoinder, Jeonghan just… laughs. 

“So what’s the plan?” he asks Wonwoo, handing him the cup of tea.

From the smell wafting from the surface of the liquid Wonwoo can tell that it’s chamomile, his go-to flavour instead of Jeonghan’s own preferred oolong. The drink was prepared for him, then. With how warm the handle feels where his fingers are wrapped around it, Jeonghan made it in time for Wonwoo’s arrival. He looks at the cup before he looks at Jeonghan, finding a playful glint in his eyes that serves as a reassurance.

Jeonghan isn’t in one of his dark moods, which means Wonwoo’s safe. 

For now.

“There’s no plan.” Wonwoo takes a sip, just to be polite. A show of trust. _I know you didn’t put poison in this_. “We fucked, that’s all.”

“Don’t act daft, it’s insulting both our intelligence,” Jeonghan clucks his tongue, disappointment bleedings sharply into soft features. 

“Plans for encores,” he clarifies. “And I don’t mean the extra however many rounds you went last night.”

“I already told you there’s no plan, so I don’t know what else you want from me. He got what he wanted, so did I. I doubt he’d come around after this, yeah? Might finally stop asking me to join his crew, too.”

The taste of lies is bitter on his tongue. Jeonghan leans away from him, contemplating. He runs his slender fingers through dark locks and Wonwoo watches his movement closely. 

“How is it that I fetched you off the street and took you in, but that mind of yours dulled instead of sharpened?”

Wonwoo wants to ask what he means by that, though he has a feeling he already knows the answer to that particular question. The leader has no appreciation for Wonwoo’s efforts to keep things on the down-low and pretend like he’s not fully aware of what Mingyu wants of him, _with_ him. But Wonwoo’s just gotten from a wolf’s lair with barely enough brain cells left to process a shit ton of new information. To make any sort of decision right now about how to proceed will be a reckless act.

It will be his undoing, and possibly also Mingyu’s. And that is one blood Wonwoo wishes he’ll never have to wash off his hands.

Taking Wonwoo’s silence as an opportunity to continue, Jeonghan places a hand on his shoulder and gives him a purposeful squeeze to bring Wonwoo back to the present.

“Just remember how important the races are to maintain the balance. We got issues between gangs, we sort it out on the streets with the engines, not guns and knives. You jeopardise that by letting some child stick their dick in you, I assure you that you won’t even have eyes to see what happens after.”

His hand slides off of Wonwoo’s body and returns to his side. Jeonghan takes a sharp inhale and starts to walk away, presumably to take his rest as Wonwoo suspects he’s been waiting for Wonwoo’s return since he got back from his business. 

“Give me an order then,” says Wonwoo before Jeonghan can disappear down the hallway. “What do I do if he comes around again?”

As soon as the question escapes him, Wonwoo realises that he wants the _if_ to become _when_. _I’m yours_ , that’s what Mingyu had said repeatedly over the course of half a night. And something that belongs to you will always find a way back to your person, won’t it? Wonwoo’s not ready to lose what he’s just gotten a taste of, not ready to let Mingyu go before he gains an understanding of how all the gears in the younger man work.

“If I wanted a puppet it wouldn’t be someone with as much functioning common sense as you,” Jeonghan tells him over his shoulder, not bothering to stop walking as he responds. “I’m not telling you who to fuck or not to fuck. That’s your own headache to nurse.”

“If you say that now—”

This time Jeonghan does stop. He turns on his heels to face him and Wonwoo prides himself in not shrinking under the dark gaze he’s being subjected to. 

“If you say that now,” Wonwoo tries again. Maybe this time he’ll have more courage than the last. “Then you can’t tell me off for whatever decision I make later. And if I happen to fuck up with you, you don’t go after him. I’m still my own person.”

Jeonghan doesn’t smile. The hair on the back of Wonwoo’s neck rise; hair Mingyu’s fingers just slid into a couple of hours ago before his palm rested on the base of Wonwoo’s skull, tipping his head back to get a better angle for a kiss.

“You’re a smart guy, Wonwoo. So be smart. You know where the line is,” is all Jeonghan offers Wonwoo before he vanishes from sight. 

←←←←←← 

Mingyu pines for him rather obviously when the next intergroup gathering finally rolls around. Wonwoo's skin crawls the entire night. 

“I’m out of here.”

Wonwoo swivels around to meet Jeonghan's gaze, but the older man pays him no mind. “What? Where are you going?”

“None of your business, princess.”

“Hey.” He inserts a dash of authority into his tone, careful with the amount as there are some lines he can’t uncross and one of them is establishing dominance over Jeonghan. “I’m your second.” That’s good, it’s an explicit acknowledgement that Wonwoo still knows his place. “It _is_ my business. You go missing, I need to know where to start looking.”

Jeonghan angles his head to the right, assessing Wonwoo’s seriousness before deciding that he’s quite resolute tonight. 

“I’m going to Seungcheol’s.”

“What for? In case you missed it, none of his crew showed up tonight. He didn’t send us as much as an errand boy.”

“Which is exactly I will be paying him a visit,” Jeonghan explains to him, tone remaining amicable for the time being. “A friendly one.”

“Then I’ll go with you.”

“No. I take you, he sees it as an intervention, we both get gunned down at the gates.”

He grabs Jeonghan by the crook of his elbow, forcing the leader to face him, then lowers his voice when he speaks again so their conversation won’t be broadcasted across the lot, subject to prying ears. 

“So you go alone to get shot on your own?”

“Seungcheol won’t shoot me.”

“Why not?”

Jeonghan offers him a smile that reaches his eyes for once, pretty curls around the corners of his mouth and the thought clicks in Wonwoo’s head. Key slots into the lock and it turns, revealing a well-hidden secret behind the door.

In his surprise, he takes his hand off of Jeonghan’s arm. “You…”

“How cute,” Jeonghan coos at him. “You really thought you were the only pair of star-crossed lovers around here.”

The revelation comes with a bunch of questions flooding in Wonwoo’s brain. He should know Jeonghan like the back of his own hand, seeing that’s how much insight the older has to Wonwoo’s mind. The road goes both ways. So to Wonwoo, this is an unexpected turn of events, to say the least. Jeonghan is the furthest thing from _reckless_ and yet that’s the one word Wonwoo would use to describe his arrangement with Seungcheol, whatever the true form might be.

“We don’t have any ongoing issues with the Wolves,” he points out, mind going numb. “Seungcheol’s crew is a different matter.”

“If that’s what you tell yourself to stop feeling guilty when you jerk off thinking about Mingyu’s dick in you, I hope it’s working.”

“Junhui almost gutted Jisoo _last week_.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t have the same thought in mind at least once every day,” Jeonghan counters swiftly. 

While he’s right about that, it doesn’t invalidate Wonwoo’s point about the high tension between their gang and the one Seungcheol is leading. 

“Oh, relax.” Orders or not, Wonwoo finds himself unable to follow through with Jeonghan’s words. “If I screw Seungcheol and get him in a good mood, then I can persuade him to order Junhui to let Jisoo walk away scot-free for whatever it is he did. Sounds good?”

“Why are you doing this?”

Jeonghan sighs like he’s tired of having this conversation with Wonwoo again and again, though as far as Wonwoo recalls, they’ve never had _this_ particular talk. Choi Seungcheol, for heaven’s sake. The thought still leaves him reeling like the ground is being pulled from underneath his feet.

“I told you. We maintain the balance. Isn’t money better when it's fully green and not splattered with red?”

Wonwoo just stares at him in total comprehension. Jeonghan returns his look. Wonwoo stares some more.

“I don’t recall passing judgement when _you_ decided to start sleeping with Mingyu, so I’m expecting the same kind of consideration to apply to me.”

“I’m not judging. I’m… confused, mostly. There’s a lot that could go very wrong very quickly. Seungcheol is much more volatile than Mingyu and we both know it.”

“Look, if you want to make questionable decisions and not have anyone else question you, be the boss.” The amiability is chipped away from his voice, replaced by something heavier and of more substance. “But last I checked, I’m the boss around here. Am I right?”

He is.

“Yes.”

Jeonghan nods at that, satisfied with Wonwoo’s response. “Good. Now make sure the kids stay out of trouble,” he swings open Archangel’s door. 

“Call me if anything happens,” Wonwoo says helplessly, as there’s nothing within his power to stop Jeonghan from doing what he’s about to do.

“You’re on my speed dial, Wonwoo. Rest easy. Don’t forget to remind Changkyun the next scene will be on his territory before you leave.” 

Wonwoo does nothing except watch him slip into the driver’s seat and buckles up his seatbelt. Jeonghan pushes the key into ignition and Archangel comes to life, engine thrumming a mellifluous note as she wakes up from her short slumber. 

The leader leans out his window to say, “And for God’s sake, do something about your boy-toy. He’s been looking at you with that forlorn look on his face all night long. I’ve never wanted to stab a dog so badly,” and then he’s driving away, leaving Wonwoo to wonder how many times has he stand witness to this very scene without ever knowing Jeonghan’s destination.

→→→→→→

Once it's all over, there's only Soonyoung and Mingyu left in the lot, their cars parked on opposite ends from one another. Mingyu watches him wordlessly with a hint of a smile on his face, possibly because he's seen Jeonghan leave earlier and that gives him a little bit of hope. But the radiant twinkle in Mingyu’s eyes dies the moment he realises that Wonwoo isn’t making his way down to him. The smile morphs into an expression of bitterness, then he hangs his head down and stares at the car keys clutched in his hands. Something snaps inside Wonwoo at how dejected he looks; a big chunk of his soul tore out from the rest.

“You took so long,” says Soonyoung once Wonwoo’s standing outside the passenger side of his car, one hand on the handle. "Everything okay with Changkyun?"

“Hey,” Wonwoo glances at Mingyu one more time, the racer still studying the asphalt beneath his feet for all he knows. He leans down to show Soonyoung his face through the open window. “Go ahead without me.”

“What the fuck? But I waited for you.”

It's all too easy to remind Soonyoung that he still owes Wonwoo for spectacle last time, but instead of a reprimand Wonwoo only flashes him a grin. 

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Soonyoung grunts in response but doesn’t ask any further questions, just zooms out of the lot without another word to Wonwoo. Wonwoo shoves his hands inside his jacket’s pockets —dark blue, Mingyu said it looks good on him once—and approaches the man in question.

“If I were you, I’d look a little more excited,” he says as preamble, nudging Mingyu’s leather boots with his foot. 

Mingyu lifts his eyes to meet Wonwoo’s gaze and the hope that shines through them is as bright as a supernova. 

“After all, you’re the only person here tonight who knows what I’m wearing underneath this,” Wonwoo teases him, a coy smile playing on his lips. “Sorry I’m late, but I’m here now.”

Mingyu says nothing for a moment and Wonwoo takes the opportunity to nudge at his feet again, wedging his one of his own in between Mingyu’s. Though he looks confused by the older’s action, Mingyu allows him to part his thighs. Once they’ve spread wide enough to accommodate his figure, Wonwoo slots himself right in the middle, swiftly and without a word.

He presses forward into Mingyu, backing him against the car until their fronts are flushed together. It’s in his orbs now; Mingyu’s expectations and longing and _yearning_. Wonwoo has to be both blind and stupid to miss them, as even under the pale moonlight they are crystal clear. He lifts his arms to encircle Mingyu’s neck, leaning in close to the younger man until his mouth is right next to Mingyu’s ear.

“So, are we going to ride or what?” 

When he pulls away to read the answer to his question off of Mingyu’s expression, the younger man quickly reels him back in by the silver chains around his neck. His warm mouth is insistent and sure on Wonwoo’s, tongue licking across the seam of his lips asking to be granted entry. Wonwoo moves his hands to frame Mingyu’s jaw and tilts his head to grant him better access as he opens up for him.

Beneath the lights flickering yellow above their heads, they keep on kissing until the race relocates from the streets right into Wonwoo’s ventricles. 

←←←←←← 

For all his plans on coming clean to Jeonghan, the last thing Wonwoo expects of himself is to blurt out, “I’m in a relationship with Mingyu,” over bacon and eggs before 8 in the morning while Seungcheol is sitting across the dining table from him. 

The man is bare-chested, ash blue hair pushed out of his face with a dark bandana, skin inked with a multitude of tattoos and love bites. Jeonghan’s doing, no doubt, if the all the slams and creaking Wonwoo heard when he was coming back at the brink of dawn are any indication of the ferocity of their lovemaking.

At Wonwoo’s outburst, Seungcheol stops chewing his toast and glances at Jeonghan, then rises from his chair wordlessly. A moment that follows activates Wonwoo’s fight-or-flight mechanism: one of Seungcheol grabbing the back of Jeonghan’s neck and forcing him to tip his head back, shoving his tongue down Jeonghan’s throat hungrily like he’s trying to make a point.

Seungcheol leaves Jeonghan slightly panting and the leader waits until he hears the sound of his bedroom door closing. Only then does he turns to Wonwoo, lips curled in incredulity.

“Do I look like your mother to you?” he traces his bottom lip with his thumb, wiping Seungcheol’s saliva off. “What’re you reporting to me for?”

“I thought you should know.”

“Well, consider me informed.”

“Alright.” 

Wonwoo gets up from his seat to set his plate in the sink since the anxiety of telling Jeonghan the truth _and_ eating breakfast with Seungcheol had killed his appetite slowly for the last fifteen minutes.

He’s barely a step away from the table when he hears, “Wonwoo.”

“Yea—”

His word dies off the tip of his tongue that still has Mingyu’s bubble gum taste coating it, evidence from the love they shared last night. He savours it one last time, the sweetness that is inherent to his lover, before a metal tang becomes all he can taste in his every swallow. Jeonghan’s serrated knife is angled into his gut, sharp end pushing into his flesh, the force almost enough to break skin.

“You ever think about jumping ship, I’ll tie you to Archangel’s rear and drag you behind me for a ride around the city.”

There’s nothing Wonwoo can do but gulp.

“Got it?” Jeonghan asks him when Wonwoo fails to give him a verbal answer.

He nods. “Got it.”

The pressure from the knife is relieved from his body, Jeonghan tucking it back inside his the pocket of his sleeping robe. Wonwoo breathes again, inhales deeply to fill his lungs with the oxygen they’ve been deprived of. He can’t help but think of Mingyu and the endless treasures he sets at his feet. 

Gold and silver. Body and soul. 

“Jeonghan,” Wonwoo gathers his courage and channels the rest from what Mingyu’s given him. “I want to race again.”

“Then race.”

“With Archangel.”

A pause.

“Fine,” Jeonghan answers in a flat tone that has nothing but disinterest in it.

“Really?”

“You put her together and we both know you’re a better driver than I am.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t know which one baffles him more, the permission that’s so easily given or the compliment that is for once isn’t hidden behind layers of insults he has to peel. He wonders, silently, if Seungcheol has anything to do with this development. If Seungcheol is a catalyst, or if he’s the entire reason. 

“Though I’m eternally indebted to you for protecting my fragile heart by not continuously reminding me of the fact,” he adds before Wonwoo has a chance to recover from his initial surprise. 

“You can race with her, but if you lose to some amateur while driving the best car in this damned country…” Jeonghan trails off, bringing his thumb in a straight line across his neck. “Well, you know. Don’t humiliate me.”

Then he stands up and briskly walks past Wonwoo, leaving a steaming cup of oolong tea untouched above the dining table.

→→→→→→

“Hey,” A familiar voice to Wonwoo’s left makes him jump in his spot.

That voice isn’t supposed to be here.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo massages his chest, “You gotta stop doing—” He's stopped by the sight of a significant object held in Mingyu’s right hand. “That’s a helmet.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu nods, lifting the item in the air so Wonwoo can inspect it better. 

The onyx colouring suits Mingyu a lot, as well as the shadow wolf that is hand-painted onto the back of the helmet, its eyes flashing red to serve an omen. If Mingyu had worn it to one of the races before, Wonwoo might have known to steer clear from both him and the wolf, but in a way, he’s glad he didn’t. 

He would have missed out on so much. _Too_ much.

“Had to retrieve it from a storage unit I almost forgot existed. You wouldn’t believe the amount of dust I had to wipe off of it before I gave up and asked Chan to wash it for me…” Mingyu trails off hesitantly when he realises Wonwoo remains unresponsive to his storytelling. 

He brings the helmet down and asks, “What’s with the look? Seokmin seemed pretty happy to see he would have to deal with fewer concussions from now on.”

_I want to figure you out._

What better way to do that than ask? Mingyu is more than willing to give him an answer, anyway.

“Why now?”

At his question, Mingyu offers Wonwoo a crooked smile. 

“I discovered a thrill superior to the one I get from not wearing a helmet while behind the wheel. Y’know, something to live for beyond the miles and miles. Something to look forward to after I cross the finish line.”

Wonwoo’s pulse quickens with every word Mingyu utters, heart picking up its pace without the owner’s permission. He knows exactly what Mingyu means just from the look on his face and _fuck_ , he’s really in this deep. From here on, it’s a point of no return. There are not enough brakes in the whole world to stop Wonwoo from colliding right into Mingyu’s path.

He’s approaching this matter at a breakneck speed and Wonwoo gets it now— _this_ is the closest he can get to racing without slamming his foot down on the gas.

_There’s always a risk_ , he can’t help but think for a second, and the next, that same taunting voice morphs into a comforting one that tells him, _what do you have to be afraid of? You’ve got both hands on the steering wheel and his is on the stick, anticipating your need for a gear shift before you can finish your thoughts._

It’s almost funny how much the second voice sounds like Mingyu’s. 

The idea of having full control while simultaneously spinning out of it has never seemed this enticing before.

“Huh,” Wonwoo says, mostly to himself, mostly in response to the epiphany he just had.

Mingyu being Mingyu, doesn’t give him time to rest before he picks up his act again. “Not gonna ask who it is?”

Quite hard to miss his choice of wording. Impossible, even. _Who_ and not _what_.

“If you say me,” Wonwoo warns him, waving his screwdriver around, “I’m going to kick you in the balls.”

The reprimand does nothing to dissuade Mingyu from telling Wonwoo “It is you,” in a tone that conveys his sincerity above all. 

He proceeds to move his helmet in front of his crotch, shielding his most valuable possession from Wonwoo’s flying limb, but the attack never comes. 

“What? Not gonna kick me?”

Wonwoo absolutely hates the way his answer comes out no louder than a weak mumble. “Changed my mind.”

“Are you blushing?” Mingyu leans down as he tries to get a better look at Wonwoo’s expression hidden underneath his signature cap. 

“Fuck,” Wonwoo enunciates pointedly, “off.” He pokes Mingyu’s chest with his index finger, urging the younger to move out of his way.

Mingyu goes willingly despite being able to stand his ground against Wonwoo if he chooses to. _You know I’m yours_. And that means Mingyu is his to command. 

“Stop coming here,” he scolds Mingyu, though he makes a point of doing it without inserting any real anger into his speech. Just exasperated fondness. “Jeonghan sees you around and he’ll set both of us on fire to cook soup over the flames.”

Raising both eyebrows and hands in the air in a gesture of placation, Mingyu takes a couple of steps back and puts a safe distance between the two of them, in the case that Wonwoo changes his mind again and decides to kick him for real.

“Alright,” he quips in a light breath. 

How can one word make Wonwoo want to go down on his knees and suck him off right there and then? There’s more power in Mingyu’s voice than under the hood of his car or _any_ car for that matter, and Wonwoo just gotten that new turbocharger installed in Archangel. 

“The race tomorrow,” Mingyu adds a final blow before he takes his leave, “I promise I’ll give you a good fight, ‘m not gonna easy on you just because I love you or anything.” 

Above trust, this is respect. 

This is: _I want you to be a part of the thrill. I want you to be a part of me._

Above respect, this is love.

And oh, how it is returned.

“Then... will I see you afterwards?”

Wonwoo, stubborn as ever, refuses to give him an answer. Part of it is because he doesn’t know how choked up he will sound since his emotions are already blurring his vision. Mingyu lets out a dramatic sigh, mutters something under his breath about Wonwoo playing hard to get before he starts walking out of the garage. His footsteps get lighter and lighter as he gets further away.

The older man turns on his heels and jogs a little to reach Mingyu, a hand outstretched to yank at the one strap of his red overalls. He never does wear it properly. A look of surprise graces the racer’s features when he turns to face Wonwoo, but he doesn’t get to see it for too long because once their lips meet in the middle, Wonwoo’s eyes instinctively flutter close. He feels Mingyu’s mouth curving into a smile that tastes like honey on his tongue and try as he might, he can’t fight mimicking the same action.

He tugs Mingyu’s bottom lip between his teeth when he pulls away, pleased to find that the surprise expression has now morphed into a dazed one. Wonwoo pats Mingyu’s cheek lightly to shake him out of the daydream before pushing him with palms flat on his toned chest.

“See you at the finish line,” Wonwoo says with his cheeks bleeding the first colour of the rainbow.

Mingyu is his sweet, sweet echo. The fireworks behind his eyelids, the butterflies flapping their wings in his stomach, the voice inside his head.

“See you at the finish line.”

A funny thought crosses Wonwoo’s mind as he watches the younger man go with his helmet propped on his hip. He’s always known that one way or another that Mingyu is addicted to speed. It just took him a while to realise that his favourite kind of speed is Wonwoo’s heart running at full throttle because of him and him alone.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed the ride as much as i did! would love to hear what you think about it <33 also... couphan spin-off? anyone? ><
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/bloominsummer)


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